


Night at the Museum Assholes

by dazydaisy



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, Night at the Museum - Freeform, Season/Series 06, Tiny bit of Angst, brief incest mention but that's just a reference to the ancient egyptians and the episode itself, could be canon if you squint really really hard, dennis loves mac even if neither of them realise that yet, gratuitous use of the word dude, i don't know how to tag, pretty tame for a always sunny fic, set directly after Who Got Dee Pregnant, shockingly little sweet dee and i apologise for that, small Catholicism mention, soft, this got away from the author a little bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-23 14:38:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13192194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazydaisy/pseuds/dazydaisy
Summary: Dennis kisses him, triumphant and drunk on whiskey and relief, while Charlie and Frank are in the office arguing about how many cans of cat food to take to the museum. It lasts approximately one second; Mac feels a-flame.----Roughly 3,000 words of Mac wanting Dennis and Dennis wanting Mac. They're stuck in a literal closet for most of this. Subtlety? I don't know her.





	Night at the Museum Assholes

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write about the gang spending the night at the museum after Who Got Dee Pregnant? (I also wanted to do something related to how Dennis seems pretty unfazed by the concept of Charlie being the dad but LIVID at the thought of Mac being the dad, like Dennis please... Let Me Live) and then it turned into..whatever this is. The title is a direct quote from the fic, because I am nothing if not narcissistic and self-referencing.
> 
> Also, the film that Dennis has seen is How To Steal a Million (1966) which I myself haven't seen in years and may not hold up to repeat/modern viewing, but does feature the romantic leads spending a lot of time squashed into a cupboard and uses coins as a distraction technique. I thought Dennis would probably find Peter O'Toole attractive. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm British and have no idea about museums in Philadelphia, or Philadelphia, or America other than information I have gathered from tv shows. I refuse to research anything, because I'm terrible. This is my first ever fan fiction! Please be gentle. I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Happy New Year to all.

Dennis kisses him, triumphant and drunk on whiskey and relief, while Charlie and Frank are in the office arguing about how many cans of cat food to take to the museum. It lasts approximately one second; Mac feels a-flame. 

Mac has a set list of rules: things that are Okay and things that are Not Okay. A kiss on the lips (no tongue) between two men, for example, he has decided is Okay. This was more of a peck really anyway. It’s Okay because sportsmen sometimes kiss in the heat of victory, and Jesus and Judas kissed once too. Mac tries not to think about how he’s casting Dennis as Judas in this scenario, or how Jesus was betrayed; instead he thinks about how Dennis initiated the kiss, which also makes it Okay, and how soft his lips were, which has nothing to do with the rules, but crept into Mac’s head without his permission.

‘I’m _really_ glad you’re not the father, Den,’ Mac says at last. He sits on his hands so that he doesn’t give into the urge to feel his lips with the tips of his fingers like some kind of bitch. Dennis would probably love it if he did, and this after all might be some kind of power play to him. But Dennis’ eyes are bright, and soft, and he’s looking at Mac the way he does when he thinks no one is looking, the way he used to when they were sixteen, twenty. Sometimes Mac thinks he’ll never see it again, but it hasn’t been the last time yet. He hopes the last time never comes.

Dennis smiles and lets out a breath. ‘Me too, buddy.’ He looks briefly like he might throw up again, but then recovers. He claps a hand on Mac’s neck. ‘And I’m glad you’re not the dad either.’ His eyes drop to Mac’s lips and Mac can feel himself freeze. Looking at another guy’s lips is Not Okay territory. The feeling uncoiling in his gut is Not Okay. Dennis squeezes Mac’s neck ever so slightly. He leans in again. Mac’s heart is beating so hard it feels like it’s going to fly away. ‘I don’t like to share,’ Dennis whispers against the shell of Mac’s ear, and then just as quickly he’s gone.

It feels like the sun has gone out.

*

The thing is, no-one has ever really loved Mac. If his mom and dad did, they never said it, never showed it. Not now, and not when he was a kid either. He used to try so many things to make them love him. He used to think if he was tougher, stronger, _more_ then one day his dad would say he was proud of him. Maybe his mom would pay him even a fraction of what attention she paid to the tv. Mac was always looking for something unconditional, and his parents never gave him that.

Charlie probably loves him, yeah, but he’s never said it either. Maybe once when he was high, or browning out. As for Dennis, well, Dennis needs him, he knows that. Mac’s sense of self isn’t so shot to hell that he can’t see that, were it ever to happen, Mac would be fine without Dennis but Dennis would not be fine without Mac. He needs Mac in a myriad of ways, but Mac isn’t convinced it adds up to love. 

Mac can still remember the first time he was told that somebody loved him: Father Dowell, from St. Margaret’s, when Mac was small and skinny as a starved dog. ‘Jesus loves you,’ he said.

Mac had looked up at him with big, brown round eyes. ‘He does?’ he breathed.

‘Yes, my son,’ Father Dowell had patted his shoulder clumsily, ‘and that’s why you must follow the teachings in the Bible.’ And that was when Mac’s rules were born. Being loved was suddenly easy; you just had to do things that were Okay (pray the rosary, take of Christ’s body, thou shalt not, thou shalt have no other god) and avoid things that were Not Okay, no matter how right they felt. 

In retrospect, Mac should’ve known. Even God’s love was conditional.

*  


Dennis knows the plan is going to work because he saw it in a film once (‘y’know,’ he said, ‘that one with Audrey Hepburn and the dude with beautiful eyes’) and therefore is foolproof. 

They pull up to the museum with half an hour to spare, so at least Dee’s stupid goddamn lie hasn’t cost them the whole plan, and enter in pairs: ‘So as not to arouse suspicion,’ Dennis had said. Mac had felt uncomfortable with how he drew out the word _arouse _and the long lingering look he gave Mac as he did so. Lingering looks fall firmly into the Not Okay category, but Mac had stared gamely back.__

____

__

Charlie and Frank enter first, Charlie whispering excitedly about ghouls, and five minutes later, after sharing a cigarette, Mac and Dennis follow them. The museum foyer is large and, Mac has to admit, pretty impressive. There’s a gaggle of schoolkids clutching museum maps, which reminds Mac to pick up a couple of them for later, because there is no way, No Fucking Way, he is getting lost in a museum at night.

Everything seems to be running smoothly; Dennis has pointed out the janitor’s closet, the keys to which they stole and took copies of a week ago, where they’ll be hiding come closing time, and Mac is just about to suggest grabbing some maps and maybe one of those audio guides for Charlie, cause of the whole illiteracy thing, when the shit hits the fan. 

There had been some arguments about the "distraction technique". Dennis had his heart set on coins. 

‘Coins are what they use in the movie,’ he said firmly. ‘It’s classy. It’s what a gentleman burglar would do.’

Charlie had shook his head. ‘It’s gotta be marbles, dude,’ he said.

Dennis had blinked. ‘Marbles?’

‘Marbles! What’s more distracting than marbles?’

‘I can think of many things,’ Dennis had looked around as if appealing to a higher force, ‘many, many things more distracting than marbles.’ He frowned. ‘ _Marbles _?’__

____

____

‘Yeah, man! Look, they’re shiny, they’re so round, and they’re rolling around and people are like; _woah, what’s a marble doing in a museum, you know, is it trying to educate itself? _’ Mac and Dennis exchanged a look as Charlie lost himself to the wonders of marbles. Exchanging looks is Okay. That’s something blood brothers do.__

____

__

_____ _

_____ _

‘Enough!’ Mac had cut short Charlie’s speech. ‘Dennis is right. We’re doing coins.’

‘Not everyone has that kind of ready cash, dude,’ Charlie had protested, ‘I can’t just dig around and produce some coins. What am I? A bank? Some rich fat cat getting fat and rich with my pile of money? Oh, oh, meow, I’m a wealthy cat, meow, I can get coins whenever I want!’

‘But you can produce marbles,’ Dennis interrupted flatly. ‘At any given time you can produce a handful of marbles.’

Charlie dug in his pockets. ‘Oh, bro, I always carry like, at least three marbles.’ He slammed a handful down on the bar top. ‘You never know, you know?’

Even though they settled on coins (after an hour long debate that ended in sore throats and a few split lips) Charlie obviously decided to do his own thing. Dennis has just reached up and squeezed Mac’s shoulder when they hear it: a loud clattering, rolling noise. Everyone, _everyone _, turns to find the source of the sound and there it is: Charlie holding what has to be the biggest bag of marbles Mac has ever seen in his life, or what was the biggest bag, but is now just an empty split bag, with a shocked look on his face. ‘Jesus!’ Frank reacts a second later than everyone else does, but makes up for the delay with dramatic flair as he whips out his gun and immediately cocks it. The atmosphere, which up til now has been merely bemused, turns tense.__

____

__

‘God _dammit _,’ chorus Mac and Dennis, and Mac, seizing both the opportunity and Dennis’ hand (Okay in emergencies or similar), drags Dennis with him to the janitor’s closet whilst everyone else is still focused on Frank, who is shouting about his rights, Ben Stiller and “that son of a bitch Mickey Rooney”. Mac gets the door open, pushes Dennis inside, gets in himself and shuts them both inside in under thirty seconds. He’s actually pretty impressed with himself. Maybe this is something he could tell his Dad in his next letter. He fumbles for a lightswitch, finds one and flips it on. His heart sinks all the way down to his boots. The closet is tiny. Barely big enough for a mop and bucket, let alone two fully grown men planning on spending upwards of an hour in it. Dennis is sandwiched between shelves full of ammonia and bleach and Mac’s body. Mac backs up, and hits door. Right. They really are stuck.__

____

__

‘Idiots, idiots! Buffoons! Idiots!’ Dennis is hissing, but it’s getting louder and louder with each passing insult. It looks like a vein is about to burst in his forehead, so Mac does the only thing he can think of: he reaches out and pulls Dennis to him, succeeding in both winding his arms around Dennis’s torso and muffling Dennis’s mouth against his shoulder. Dennis stops hissing and visibly calms. 

‘Well,’ he murmurs, practically melding himself to Mac’s chest, ‘maybe it will be better with just the two of us.’ His arms come around Mac’s body and Mac swallows until his throat clicks. It sounds like a gunshot in the tiny closet. Dennis grins. ‘Night at the museum, baby.’

Mac nods. ‘Yeah,’ he whispers back.

*

The closet appears to be shrinking. They must’ve been in there for half an hour already - the announcement that no more visitors would be allowed in hummed on the other side of the door a few minutes ago - and they’re gonna have to be there for maybe another hour before the coast is clear. It occurs to Mac that bringing along some coins to toss in a distraction technique and a backpack that’s largely filled with beer is not the well thought out heist they’ve been telling themselves it is. Dennis is sat opposite Mac, practically in his lap the floor space is so limited, sifting through the aforementioned backpack. It really does contain a lot of beer. They’ve drunk three cans apiece already. 

‘Dude,’ Mac tries for the fifth time, ‘this sucks. Let’s just sneak out. We can go out.’ He pauses. ‘We can go dancing?’ The lure of dancing usually works on Dennis; he’s very transparent about wanting other people to watch the way he can move his body.

But it’s not working tonight. Dennis shakes his head. ‘No way, bro, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.’ He produces two flashlights and checks their batteries. ‘Hey, if you could bang anyone from history, who would you bang?’

Dennis’ foot is dangerously close to Mac’s crotch. His mind goes blank. Every single historical person Mac has ever heard of flies out of his head. ‘Er…’

Dennis interrupts before Mac has to finish that sentence, thank God. ‘I’d bang Cleopatra,’ he says. ‘She was meant to be hot, right?’ He holds up two hands way out in front of his chest to indicate said hotness. 

Mac rifles around in his head to bring any Cleopatra fact to mind. Only one comes. ‘Wouldn’t she smell, like, milky?’

‘ _Milky _?’__

____

____

‘Yeah, man.’ He shifts. Their legs are interlocked. ‘Like a McPoyle.’ Dennis grimaces. ‘Cause she washed with milk all the time.’

‘The Queen of the Nile,’ says Dennis stiffly, ‘was not like a milky McPoyle.’

Mac remembers something else about Cleopatra. ‘And didn’t she, like, marry her brother? That’s sick, dude, she’s just like Margaret McPoyle!’ He laughs, which is a mistake. 

Dennis’s knuckles have gone white around the can of beer he’s holding. ‘Okay,’ he says at length, ‘then who would you bang, Mac? What woman in the _whole of human history _is good enough for you?’__

____

____

‘I-’ Mac looks down at his hands. ‘I don’t know.’ About thirty different names swim into his brain but he can’t say any of them. Elvis. Genghis Khan (Genghis Khan is badass). Unbidden, Saint Sebastian, his mouth open, his body pierced with arrows, comes to Mac. He swallows. ‘Marilyn Monroe?’

‘Marilyn,’ Dennis repeats softly, ‘Monroe.’

Mac looks Dennis in the eye. The light is very dim in the closet, one bare low voltage bulb hanging down from the ceiling. ‘She had great breasts, man,’ he lies. 

Dennis is silent. It’s as heavy as lead.

*

They kill four more beers each. 

‘I just think that,’ Mac smothers a burp, ‘that I could like, really take ‘em down.’

Dennis laughs. ‘I don’t think your particular brand of karate is any match for a t-rex, dude.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong! I’ll show you! They got tiny arms dude, and they’re big so they’re slow.’ Mac takes a drink. ‘I do respect their mass though.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Dennis is smiling at him, open and warm.

Mac is beginning to feel sore. He stands up to stretch, but the limited space means that his crotch comes perilously close to Dennis’s face. He sits down again, abruptly. Dennis is staring at him; he looks a little too knowing for Mac’s comfort. 

‘So,’ Mac says, ‘what section do you want to see first?’

‘Ancient Egyptian,’ says Dennis quickly. ‘They had the right idea: being worshipped like gods, cats getting the respect they deserve. Pyramids built so no one could forget how important you were.’ Dennis pauses, presumably lost to the idea of someone building a 400 foot monument to him. ‘What about you, Mac?’

‘The Greek section,’ Mac replies just as promptly.  


Dennis raises an eyebrow. ‘You know, the ancient Greeks were champions of naked sportsmanship and homosexuality.’

Mac spreads his hands. ‘The ancient Greeks,’ he says firmly, ‘were badass.’

Dennis considers this, and casually drops one hand onto Mac’s knee. Warmth seeps through the fabric. He rubs little circles onto Mac’s thigh with one thumb. He licks his lips. ‘You know… it’s pretty cramped in here,’ he ventures. ‘Wonder if there’s anything we can do about that.’ 

Mac feels warm and liquid, like honey. ‘This was your idea, bro,’ he says amiably. He’s still thinking about the ancient Greeks; he wonders if Dennis would wrestle with him when they get out of this closet. 

Dennis leans forward, close, closer, closest, until he’s only a whisper away. His eyes are dark. Mac stops breathing. Then he presses his lips gently against Mac's. He pulls back. Looks carefully into Mac’s eyes, then sways in again and sucks the curve of Mac’s lower lip in between his own. Mac doesn’t know how he’s still upright since it feels like he hasn’t taken a breath in about twenty years. He thinks about pushing Dennis away and asking him what the hell he's doing. He thinks about when they pretended to be partners. He thinks about every time Dennis has ever touched him. He wonders if what this is what people mean when they say their life flashed before their eyes. Dennis releases Mac’s lip. Mac’s hands are sweaty; he is trying not to reach out and haul Dennis bodily onto his lap. Dennis brushes his nose against Mac’s cheek and breathes out: ‘Mac. Please. Please.’

Has Dennis ever said please before in his whole life? Mac briefly wonders What Jesus Would Do, and then the last of his resolve melts like sugar in hot coffee. The truth is, all it would take would be one word from Dennis and Mac would renounce Christ in a heartbeat. He reaches for Dennis, blindly, closing his eyes and bringing him to his lips again and again. It feels like a piece that's always been missing has just slotted itself into place in Mac's chest. It feels unconditional.

*

They kiss for what could be minutes, or hours, or days. Mac doesn’t know, and he doesn’t care. Kissing a man like this: touching tongues, tugging gently at Dennis’s hair until he moans, swallowing Dennis’s groans and sighs like communion, falls squarely into the Not Okay box, but it’s been a long day, a long life, and Mac is tired of denying himself the things he wants.

Dennis is straddling him. Mac thinks he can feel Dennis trembling, or maybe they both are. Suddenly: the earth moves, like a bad joke, and Mac fleeting wonders at how it's never felt like this before, until he realises that the earth really has moved, or at least, the door that they’ve been propped up against has, and he’s on his back with Dennis plastered on top of him.

‘Well, well, well,’ says a voice. ‘What have we here?’

Blinking, they both tear themselves away from each other and look into the shining light of the museum’s security guard's flashlight. They freeze for a beat. Then:

‘You didn’t _lock the door _?’ Dennis hisses.__

____

____

‘Neither did you, bro!’ Mac protests as they both struggle to their feet. Their bickering continues as they are marched to the security guard’s office.

‘Did you really think we wouldn't notice?’ the security guard asks. He points behind him where, on multiple screens, miniature Macs and Dennises squash themselves into the janitor’s closet in an infinite loop. 

‘Oh,’ says Mac.

‘Goddammit,’ says Dennis.

It turns out they were in the closet a sum total of 73 minutes. Mac wonders wildly what might have happened if they'd been left any longer. He wonders at their inability to stay in one spot, on their own, for longer than an hour and a quarter without getting their hands on each other in one way or another. 

The security guard shakes his head and calls the police. ‘Hey, yeah, it’s Chuck,’ he says, ‘we got another couple of those night at the museum assholes here.’ Dennis and Mac exchange sheepish glances. Their thighs are pressed together on the little bench Chuck has sat them on. Mac feels about fifteen years old, like he just caught getting high with Dennis under the bleachers. He _feels _high, even though they just got caught red handed. Red everything else too, he thinks. He remembers the weight of Dennis on his lap. He wants to laugh.__

____

____

*

Later, they will use their one phone call to call Sweet Dee and ask her to bail them out and she’ll laugh for a solid five minutes before promptly hanging up on them. 

Later, Dennis will fall asleep on Mac’s shoulder in the holding cell and drool the whole time. Mac will stare daggers at anyone who looks at them funny.

Later, much later, they’ll stumble home to their apartment. Mac will make Dennis eat a bowlful of pasta and Dennis will rub his hand through Mac’s hair when he gets up to go to the bathroom. 

And even later after that, Mac will finally say, to himself, to his friends (who are, let’s be honest, his family): _I’m gay _, and a world of Okay will open to him.__

__But for now they’re both in the back of a police car, their little fingers brushing everytime they go round a corner. Dennis keeps sneaking looks at Mac from beneath his eyelashes and smiling softly._ _

__It’s enough._ _

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! 
> 
>  [here's a blog](http://dazyydaisy.tumblr.com)
> 
> anyway, let's all close our eyes and forget all about Dennis leaving at the end of season 12


End file.
